Choice
by hairsprayheart
Summary: There's always a choice... right? 1000 word drabble. My take on the conversation between Aslan, Peter, and Susan at the end of Prince Caspian.


Choice

A _Chronicles of Narnia_ Oneshot

by hairsprayheart

There's always a choice… right? My take on the conversation between Aslan, Peter, and Susan at the end of _Prince Caspian_. Enjoy!

"Peter and Susan."

The siblings looked up into the deep, liquid brown eyes of Aslan. Immediately, they fell to their knees in their great love and wonder.

"Rise, Peter and Susan, king and queen of Narnia."

Grinning, they stood. They threw their arms around His great form, leaning against Him, letting Him support them.

"Dear ones, the time has come for you to make a choice."

"A choice?" they repeated, simultaneously.

The Lion smiled.

"Yes. But do not be hasty. This choice will change your life."

His rich, velvety voice contained a gravity they could not have understood.

Even though He already knew what was going to happen, He already knew how they were going to answer, He also knew that He still had to ask. He still had to offer them the Choice. There was always, always a choice. Wasn't there?

"Narnia has loved you for your services. And now, you must decide whether or not there is anything else you have to offer."

Susan and Peter looked at each other in shock before looking back at him.

"You may choose to remain here, or you may go, so that someone else may come."

He stood before them silently for a moment, letting them consider their options. There was no reason not to be generous, with these choices, with _time_ to make their decision, after all that they had done for this land that was almost as much theirs now as it was His. They had – they were supposed to have – time, all the time they wanted, all the time in the world. But that couldn't be enough; it would never be enough.

They did not answer Him right away. They matched His silence, and followed Him when He padded forward out of the dark recesses of the courtyard. When they were bathed in the light, Peter spoke.

"We trust you, Aslan."

The Great Lion's lips parted briefly, a flash of white fangs, in an indulgent smile. "I know, dear one."

"This is just so hard."

When He did not speak, Peter continued – slowly, painstakingly.

"What will happen, if – _when…_ we… _go_?"

"That is not for you to know," He replied, in a rumble that was deeply comforting even to Peter's wounded heart. "We can never say what is to be, only what has been."

Susan looked at her older brother, desperation hidden in her eyes. Though she said nothing, those eyes beseeched him to say no, and He could tell, even though He did not let on.

"Lucy and Ed? They can come back?"

Again, Aslan said nothing, just met Peter's eyes with his own.

"Who will get to come?" Peter managed, turning his face away to subject his eyes to the blinding sun.

The Lion hesitated, if it could be said that He ever did hesitate. It was not that He did not know of His own decision; it was that He was not sure if they were ready.

"It is someone you love, though you may not know it."

Susan lifted her chin, and at that moment Caspian skipped down the stairs. They locked eyes for half of an instant, but a glance from Aslan (though it could not quite be called stern) made him turn away.

Peter's fists clenched, unconsciously, as they hung at his sides. "Who is it, Aslan?"

"It is the boy, in your land, they call Scrubb."

"Eustace?" Susan spluttered, unable to contain herself. Perhaps it was a result of her brief encounter with the young prince. "How could Narnia need _him_?"

Peter bit his lip, raked one hand through his hair. Aslan could tell that the boy was wrestling with his thoughts, with the multiple emotions that were boiling up within him. "I think… I think _he_ needs _Narnia_, Su."

Susan's shoulders sagged. She knew Peter was right, as much as she might have hated him for it at that instant.

And Peter knew it, too. His eyes met Aslan's and he _knew_.

"Well, that's it, then," Peter said, quietly. "We're going home." The word sounded vulgar and bitter on his tongue. _It wasn't home anymore, not really._ He paused, looked back at Him. "If-if that's all right with you, Aslan."

The Lion chuckled. "Dear heart, you have learned everything you can from this land. And now it is time to return to your own."

And looking at the boy, He knew that they _had_ learned everything that they could. They had taken all the wisdom Narnia could offer them; learned every lesson (however painful), and then gone on to teach it to others. They were changed. He could see their hearts, and He knew it. They had gained knowledge, _real knowledge_, knowledge unlike any knowledge to be found elsewhere. But it was not up to Him to determine whether or not they would retain it.

"Aslan," Susan questioned, "what about you?"

What she really meant was: _What about us?_

"I will always be with you," He said, in a more serious tone, a tone that was so grave, the children would never forget His words. Or, at least, not really. "Narnia will never forget you, and neither will I. You must not forget Me."

Solemnly, they shook their heads: no, they would not forget. But one of them _would_. And He knew. But He chose to let them go anyway.

And so they left. And even as He watched them – watched _her_ – go, even as His heart broke, He stood by His choice. Because it wasn't even His to make. There was a plan that was bigger than them, bigger than Narnia, even bigger than He was. He _had_ to let them go. He didn't _have_ a _choice_.

_There are people who choose to do the hard thing. And there are people who choose to do the easy thing. Susan Pevensie was the latter type of person. And the easiest thing to do was forget. So that is what she did. Because it seemed like she didn't have a choice._


End file.
